Defence Forces Review 2008

Defence Forces Review 2008
end of his tour with the 51st he said he had what he called a “feel” for the situation. Well he might
have had feel for it but I was seriously afraid, and so were the majority of the newcomers.
I will never forget the sight of Cpl John Cawley locked into the turret of his APC spinning it
round and round in continuous circles “searching for targets”, as he said himself. Fortunately
he never found any, but I have no illusions that had there been sufficient provocation that
night, or had a shot been fired, or had someone thought a shot had been fired, there was every
possibility it could have been a different story. Everyone was scared and we were absolutely
haunted no one made a mistake - but then again maybe all those hours of boring training do
count for something after all. Maybe there really was some point to all the crawling around at
night during “Airport 82”
But it was a long night. Hugh Donovan came and asked if we were hungry. We said yes and he
returned later with some very strange looking sandwiches – ‘pita bread’ he called it and said
it was a delicacy which I would come to know and love! Comdt Cawley visited regularly and
kept asking me if I was nervous – I said I was. “Good”, he said “that will keep you on your
toes”. Later on as dawn broke we all calmed down. Johnny Scott was brilliant. Experience
gives you the edge in these situations – and that night the novices needed as much experience
around them as they could get.
But in real terms we got off easy. Others had far bigger problems to deal with and Billy
Cunningham had to call on all his own reserves of strength and experience to keep him going
as he worked at the scene of the shooting on Tibnin bridge. Sometimes the medics never get
the credit they deserve.
The next few days were dreadful. I didn’t know Greg Morrow, Peter Burke or Thomas Murphy
but I felt as if I had just lost three of my best friends. I spent most of that week over in A Coy
HQ answering the phone, doing duty and generally helping out - and I watched that company
bleed. I served mass for Fr Jim Casey a few times – when all else fails you might as well
say a few prayers - but few others attended. The truth was simply beyond comprehension.
There was no redemption or mitigation for this. Why, why, why So many questions - and
no answers. Morale hit rock bottom as everyone sought to come to terms with the tragedy,
each in his or her own way. It was very painful, but come to terms you do, and you get on
with the job - not particularly because you want to it, but simply because you have to - we
did after all volunteer to come here in the first place. But the terrible irony of the whole thing
was lost on nobody. Before we went to Lebanon very few people outside his own circle had
ever heard of Michael MacAleevy. Now he was famous for all the wrong reasons - and three
good people were dead. Life simply wasn’t fair - but there was absolutely nothing any of us
could do about it.
And after that the rest of the trip seemed almost easy. You grow up fast when you have to and
learning on the job concentrates your mind. And we learned other things too. The boss taught
us how to roast chestnuts on a Damascus heater, Shay Gillen learned to throw darts, Cpl
John Bowen discovered how to acquire food without always relying on the ration scale, Tom
Rennicks became adept at managing a bar (more or less), and Cpl John “Knox” O’Donnell
kept the peace between all of us when occasionally tempers were frayed.
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